


Still wearing socks...

by deeblink



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeblink/pseuds/deeblink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil Grissom decides that he fancies Nick Stokes so he sets about wooing him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still wearing socks...

Still wearing socks…

Gil didn’t really know when it had happened.

All he knew was that it had happened.

It was after Warrick’s death, and then his funeral, that he noticed it more, but by the time he left the lab he couldn’t deny it; it was at the forefront of his mind night and day.

He‘d told Nick that he was ‘his best student’, and that was no word of a lie. He’d never had to tell Nick the same thing twice. Nick had made mistakes, there was no denying that, some of them pretty big mistakes, but he learned his lessons well and always moved on and became a better CSI. Gil supposed that Nick had become a better man. 

He’d never considered that until recently; he would often call Nick, ‘my boy’. And he really did consider him young, or youthful, but he was nearing forty and Gil had spotted a smattering of grey hairs at his temples. Perhaps that was why he favoured those ridiculous buzz cuts. 

And, he never called Greg ‘my boy’ and he was younger and more youthful, but maybe more foolish. 

Foolish was not a word Gil associated with Nick. He had been foolish, especially with that prostitute and talking to an old friend about a case, but they’d been genuine mistakes. He didn’t try to hide them but had confronted them and confessed his sins.

Perhaps he could call Nick endearing. Perhaps he could call him straightforward. Both those qualities applied. But what Gil was less able to do was call Nick, a friend.

He didn’t know really why that was. Catherine was a friend, so was Jim and Warrick had been. Sara was something else entirely. But Nick was a colleague, a subordinate. Never considered a friend.

Gil often wondered what Nick thought about him. All these years after his silk, silk, silk, puzzle. He’d thought Nick was actually going to cry that night and Gil knew he’d been cruel, but Nick had made a real effort to stop his hero worship and concentrate on the job and not on what ‘Grissom’ would want, or what ‘Grissom’ would do or say; it paid off. When the lab wanted a lead CSI he was the natural choice for the job, an all rounder. Despite anything Sara said or thought. She was always too blinkered

But now things were entirely different.

The lab was over. Gil’d moved on. Catherine was certain he’d go to Sara in…wherever she was. But that had been well and truly over even before Warrick’s death. Sometime after she left the first time, Gil had realised how relieved he was. Maybe his initial feelings of loss were because he’d just got used to the company, not being alone. But as he thought about it and after he’d spent time with Heather he’d come to realise that although he’d been with Sara for over two years he was lonely with her, more lonely than he’d ever been without her.

He did blame himself entirely for the whole debacle. He should have been more active in resisting her continued onslaught…she wore him down and in the end he gave in; it just seemed easier.

Her loss had been a shock though; though probably to his pride more than anything else. Heather had put it into perspective, that sometimes doing nothing was tantamount to doing what you actually wanted to do, but couldn’t or wouldn’t, or didn’t have the balls to do…and that certainly applied to him. Heather’s perception was always impeccable.

He was an inherent coward about relationships; he’d always kept one step away from totally committing himself to another person but he’d never ended a relationship, even once. But they had all ended. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he had been prepared to compromise over Sara. She loved him, so that was probably enough and it certainly felt that way at the time, especially after she’d been kidnapped. 

But it wasn’t in the end. He needed more. He needed to feel more.

He’d proposed marriage and even felt he could have gone through with it. She must have sensed the unease in him because she couldn’t speak to him, at all, about work and how she felt; she just left. He’d been surprised, but mostly he’d been relieved. And once he’d realised that, he was never going to rekindle the relationship.

And then there was Nick. The growing fascination with him.

For all of his adult life Gil had had encounters, for want of a better word, with both men and women. It seemed natural to him. It was the person he liked and wanted, not the specific gender.

Nick had always been on his periphery as a handsome young man, but Gil had never once considered a liaison, however discreet, with a work colleague. It was Sara who’d broken that rule. That was unkind, he supposed, because he had broken his own rule with Sara. 

And yet, if he’d had both of them put in front of him and told he had to choose one, it would have been Nick.

Always. 

But he’d never asked himself that question until recently.

Strange then, that he didn’t contemplate what to do it until after the funeral.

When Warrick’s funeral was over, Sara had wanted him to leave with her. 

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Nick needed him more. 

And that was it; that was when he started. Maybe the loss of Warrick, definitely not Sara, had suddenly thrust Nick into his line of vision like he’d never been before.

Nick, hurting more for Warrick’s death than for his own incarceration all those years ago…it seemed like decades, but it was just four years.

Yes. Gil knew, and more importantly admitted to himself, that Nick was more. More to him than he’d ever realised. More important than Sara. 

It was strange that he’d never considered it, at least consciously. That if he could have Sara then he could have had Nick. 

His time at the lab was over. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he always had job offers and consultancy work requests. He could even afford to take it easy for a few months, at the very least, but he wasn’t sure about that. He liked working, he wanted to work. 

Perhaps he’d take his time to see what more he could do with his life.

Gil’s introspection about what to do with his life, and Nick, had been simmering in the background as he organised his life at home. Finally finding the time to catalogue his journals and books. Throwing out, albeit extremely reluctantly, unwanted, no, unneeded, would be a better description, journals and books that were unnecessarily clogging up his house, and his garage. 

And then his computer, checking file after file and reclassifying them and moving them around to be more easily accessed. Truth be told, he found that was more arduous than any physical task and it was while he was waiting for something to load he thought, ‘why not call Nick?’ So, after weeks of ruminating he just made the decision.

Retrieving his cell, he found Nick’s number and pressed ‘call’. The number rang out a number of times and then…

“‘lo.”

“Nick, just thought I’d give you a call.”

“ ‘k.”

“How you doing?”

“Who is this?”

“Sorry? Nick, it’s Gil…Grissom…Gris.”

“Oh, right, sorry Gris, just woken up man, I was fast. How ya doing?”

“Oh yes. I’d forgotten already that I’m no longer a night-time person. I sleep at night now. Anyway, Nick, do you want to go out for dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner.”

“Well…yeah…okay…when?”

“I thought we could go when you’ve next off. When’s that?”

“Tonight and tomorrow.”

“Tonight then. No time like the present.”

“No. I mean, yes, okay.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Okay.”

“That’s settled then. Bye.”

Gil didn’t hear Nick speak again. But no sooner had he ended the call than he realised he had no idea where Nick lived, so he re-dialled.

“Yeah?”

“Not had time to go back to sleep then?”

“No.”

“Good; your address Nick, I don’t have your address.”

Gil scribbled down the address as Nick gave it to him and then he said ‘bye’, and ended the second call.

His file had loaded and he set about cleansing it and deleting his unwanted files. It was so much easier to delete when he couldn’t feel the paper of the journal or the cover of the book.

At five minutes to seven Gil stopped his truck outside Nick’s house. He took in the surroundings, nice neighbourhood, good, well looked after properties, small places but built with some character, not thrown together like a lot of new housing. These looked like they’d been around for maybe twenty years or more.

Gil walked up to the front door and knocked, it was answered almost immediately. Nick looked worried about something.

“Nick, everything okay?”

“Yes. No. I didn’t know what to wear, you never said where we’re going and I didn’t know whether I would be under or over dressed…”

“You’re fine.”

“I know that now, since you’re in about the same stuff as me. Excuse me, where are my manners, please come in.”

Nick stood back and Gil walked into the living room.

“I’ve booked the table for half seven, and it’ll take us a good twenty minutes to get there.” He looked around the room and took in the books, the computer, the drawings and the…he didn’t know what it was and for several seconds he stood, looking around, and then he understood; it was the homeliness of the room.

“That’s a remarkable drawing of a bald headed eagle.” He mentioned the drawing closest to him; it was a water colour. He looked at the name in the right hand corner and then peered closer at it.

“N.Stokes 06.18.05. You?”

“Yeah. We haven’t really got time for a drink. You wanna go in my truck?”

“No, might as well use mine.”

“Okay then. How ya been? How’s retirement?”

“I’m not retired, Nick, and I've been fine.” 

“No, sorry. Found any work yet?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, we’d better get going.”

“Yeah.”

Nick followed Gris out to his truck and they clambered aboard. And mostly they sat in silence. Not exactly uncomfortable, but neither was it exactly comfortable.

In truth, Nick had spent some time after Gris’ call trying to figure out why, after Gris had left the lab, he now wanted to go out for dinner. They’d never been out to dinner on their own. Never. Not even for a drink, alone. Never; always in a group and never just the two of them. Nick wasn’t exactly worried, he was just confused. Yes, that would adequately explain how he felt. Confused.

Admittedly Gris had been very generous with his praise, before he’d left the lab, and Nick appreciated that. After all, he’d been to hell and back more than a couple of times over the years and it took time to forgive…or maybe understand was a better word…when Gris had pronounced, ‘it’s over’, about Walter Gordon. How the fuck could he think it could be over, just like that?

But in retrospect Nick had found that he’d been, not exactly right, but half right, yes, he was willing to acknowledge that Gris had been half right.

Gris didn’t appear to want to make any small talk and Nick was okay with that and Gris seemed happy enough. Humming a tuneless little song. And true to Gris’ word twenty minutes later they were parking outside ‘The Hacienda’, a Mexican restaurant that Nick had heard was good but had never got around to trying.

“Have you been here before, Nick?” 

“No, you?”

“No, but it has a good reputation and now we’ll be able to judge for ourselves, won’t we?”

“Yeah, we will.” Nick smiled and relaxed a little because that’s what Gris had done, smiled and relaxed.

They had a lot of food and all of it wonderful; hot, spicy, cold, calming. Both men thoroughly enjoyed the food.

Conversation was a little stilted at first. Nick talked about work and Gris told him about clearing out his house.

Nick talked about Ray and Gris talked about a journal article he was writing.

They talked about Warrick and reminisced a great deal about him and his life and eventually stopped talking because it ended with his death.

They never mentioned Sara.

“Man, I cannot eat another bite, even ice cream. I’m done.”

“I thought you were being a bit ambitious, with that concoction.”

“Always have to finish a good meal with good pudding. Rule number one in the Stokes’ household.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

They ordered coffee and drank it in silence but it was a far more companionable silence, or so Nick thought, than the drive over.

When the check came, Nick reached for it. He wasn’t intending to pay for both of them, but would pay his share.

“No, Nick, let me. I invited you to dinner, so I’d like to pay.”

“Oh. Oh, okay then, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They moved smoothly back to Gil’s truck and he returned Nick to his house.

Nick was unsure whether or not to invite Gris in. “It’s been a nice night, Gris. Yeah. Thanks, you know, for paying.”

“I've enjoyed myself, Nick, thank you.”

“You want to come in for a nightcap…I mean I know you’re driving, but maybe a coffee, juice?” 

“I would like that. Give me a chance to look at more of your drawings…I take it they’re all yours?”

“Yeah, mostly. Hobby.”

“Birds or drawing?”

“Both.”

“That’s good, combining two hobbies.”

“Yeah.”

“Shall we go in then?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

Gil elected to have a very small Jack Daniels. With ice. He wandered Nick’s living room looking at the various drawings, a mix between just pencil or charcoal and then watercolours, but all beautifully detailed but not too fussy, which Gil particularly liked. They concentrated on the birds themselves. Nick also had some spectacular photographs too, and in one Gil recognised the mountain behind.

“Isn’t that Spirit Mountain out by Lake Mohave?”

“Yeah, it is…you hike?”

“Not really; amble more like, looking for bugs. There’s a beetle I've been looking for, for some years, but I haven’t seen one yet.” 

“Probably hear you coming.”

“Oh no, they don’t have hearing, I’m mean they can probably sense me…movement, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.”

“You were joking weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. I picked it up eventually. I’ve really enjoyed this evening. Maybe we could do it again?”

“Yeah. Good. Yes.” Nick was very aware of his limited vocabulary, but Grissom had shocked, no, surprised, no, he didn’t know what Grissom had done to him but Nick was not in a comfort zone.

“I’d like to see that Tarantino film, ‘Inglourious Basterds’; from the reviews it seems it’s quite quirky. Would a movie be okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“I’d better go then now, but thanks, Nick, and I’ll find out where it’s showing and give you a call. Okay?”

“Yeah. Good.” For God’s sake Nicholas pull yourself together, you moron. He’ll think you’re a complete moron.

“Thanks for the drink.” Gil was at the front door and lifted his hand, not exactly a wave but just raising his hand.

“You’re welcome. Any time.” That’s better. 

“Nick.” Gil smiled at him and disappeared down the driveway to his truck. Nick watched him, but he didn’t look back.

Nick went back indoors and sat down nursing another JD, not that he drank that much but he needed a drink. Why on earth did Gil Grissom want to have dinner with him? Why on earth did Gil Grissom want to go to the movies with him? He had absolutely no idea. Gris had even paid for the meal.

Nick decided not to bother thinking about it any more. He knew Gris would have a reason, some convoluted reason, and he’d find out maybe next time her saw him…or not.

Nick changed into some sweats and a tee and found a game he hadn’t seen and started to watch. The phone interrupted his viewing only a few minutes in. This time he could see who the caller was.

“Gris?”

“Nick, I have an apology to make to you.” 

“You do?”

“Yes. The night of the pifflings?”

“The night of the…oh, fight night.”

“Yeah, I said you got your knowledge from ‘Animal Planet’, didn’t I? You called me on it then and I still thought you didn’t know anything about birds, and clearly you know a great deal. I’m sorry.”

“Gris, that was years ago. Must be six or seven years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter, I was wrong to make the assumption I did, Nick, and I’m sorry.”

“Well, errr, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I did have a good time tonight. Night.” And he was gone, again. Nick stared at his phone. He was beginning to think that there was something wrong with Gil Grissom. Or him. Or the universe. 

Back at Gil's house, he was…happy. He’d had a very enjoyable evening with Nick. Chatting about work and Warrick and Ray. Yes, he decided, it had gone very well. And they were going to go to the movies.

When he’d remembered what Nick had said about birds all those years ago he’d felt compelled to call and apologise. 

He then poured himself a more generous JD and thought about Nick. There was just so much more to him than he imagined. Yes, Nick was worth pursuing and ‘Gil’, he told himself, ‘you’ve made a good decision’.

The next day he looked up times and places for the film and decided he’d call Nick that evening after Nick had slept.

Nick was sitting on his deck nursing a camomile tea. It was his secret. As far as he knew no one knew that he drank herbal tea. He had thought that it was kind of girly, really. The only person he knew who drank herbal tea was Sara. Sara; that was very nearly another life time ago.

His therapist had recommended camomile tea to him. After months of therapy, he’d still had nightmares and although they’d stopped frightening him, they unsettled him. She had told him that should he try the tea, it would calm him down. He’d been sceptical but had eventually succumbed and to his astonishment it had worked. 

He rarely had nightmares any more, just once in a while after a bad case maybe; after Warrick had died, after McKeen.

But today, as he slept, he’d dreamed. Not a nightmare about his Perspex coffin and burial with ants, but a dream. It was a first. He dreamed that the lid had been opened, just as it had and Grissom was there holding his hand, just like he had, but in his dream, Grissom had continued to hold his hand as he’d been catapulted out of the coffin. He’d held his hand as he lay on the ground surrounded by paramedics and his friends.

In the ambulance and in the hospital and then while he recovered. It seemed, in his dream that Grissom had been with him every single moment, holding his hand until he walked back into the lab for the first time. Grissom held his hand and led him through the glass corridors and into the briefing room where he sat him down among his friends, his colleagues, and then he let go.

It was a very vivid dream, but also almost a calming experience. He chuckled to himself as he sipped his camomile tea; if he was that calm, then why did he feel unsettled and in need of the tea? He didn’t know, but it was a strange dream to dream, a pleasant dream about an horrific experience. It was a first, that was for sure. He’d mention it at his next therapy session.

And that was another secret; that he still attended therapy with Alice Garcia. She’d said it wasn’t absolutely necessary but she advised him that he would probably find that sometimes he would get the urge to talk about it, or even other things, and that speaking to her, just occasionally, would keep him on an even keel. They’d decided that it would be every two months. She was like a friend now and he felt comfortable with her and it did keep him grounded.

He really didn’t know why he kept these silly little things secret, but once you told one person one thing, the entire lab and half of LVPD would know. He liked a little privacy now, especially when everybody had seen him in the depths of despair. 

And then there was Grissom. Why had he phoned him right out of the blue? Why invite him out to dinner…and pay? He never said and Nick never thought to actually ask. Then Grissom had said he wanted to go to a movie, the new Tarantino film. He probably wouldn’t phone him anyway, not after Nick behaved like a star struck kid in his presence. 

So what to eat? It was still weird to him after all these years; he generally had his breakfast in the early evening and his dinner at breakfast time. But he’d eaten a lot last night, so he wasn't going to eat much, maybe some fresh fruit with that Greek yoghurt he had in his fridge.

He was contemplating the food when his cell rang. As always, it was in his pocket. Habit. He pulled it out and saw that it said, ‘Gris’. He was almost shocked.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t wake you this time?”

“No, been up a while.”

“Good. But did you sleep okay?”

That was weird; why would he ask that? “Yeah, why?”

“Of course, I went to bed almost straight after I got home, but I woke up a couple of hours later with indigestion. Had to get up and have a drink of peppermint tea. All that spicy food, it was foolish to overload my belly like that. You had time to let it digest properly so I guess you were okay.”

“Peppermint tea? You drink herbal tea?”

“I do indeed, especially peppermint which I find particularly soothing for my innards and I used to drink camomile when I got in from work because I found it very calming before bed. I don’t need that so much now; I’m a much calmer person.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I drink camomile; I find it helps to calm me down, my therapist recommended it, she says it can be as good as a mild sedative.”

Holy shit, had he just told Grissom, Gil Grissom, not his one, but his two most secret, secrets? What had got into him?

“I believe so. That’s good, a doctor, not prescribing drugs, but suggesting a natural product. She must be good. No scratch that, she is good. She put you back together again didn’t she, but then I suppose you had a tremendous will to return to normal? Your trademark.”

What the fuck? He never said a word to me when I went back to work, well he said, ‘it’s over’, and here he is talking up a storm. “My trademark?”

“Yes. You have a tremendous capacity to cope. You regroup and move on. I think that most people would have used the gun, Nick. But I never thought for one minute that you would.”

Why is he talking about this?

“I think most people don’t know what they’d do in those circumstances. You don’t know yourself until you’re tested like that.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, I think you did, you do, know yourself, and that was the driving force of your survival.”

“Why are we talking about this now, after all this time?”

“I should have done it at the time. I was very wrong in the things I said and the things I left unsaid. I hope you will accept my apology. Better late than never?”

“I don’t think you have anything to apologise for, I appreciated you treating me normally, it meant a lot at the time.”

“Huh. I wish I could say it was what I intended to do, but in truth, Nick? In truth, I hadn’t a clue what to do. I was completely blindsided, by your survival; your sheer resilience.”

“It’s over, you know?”

“You still see the therapist. Is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good. Now that Tarantino movie. I figured you wouldn’t mind a late showing, are you free tonight? There’s a show that starts at eleven at the mall complex.”

“Tonight?”

“You probably have something planned.”

“Nothing that I can’t put off for a day or two. Let’s do it.”

“Good. Great. You can get the tickets, I’ll get the popcorn and soda, oh, and the dogs, can’t go to a movie without a prerequisite dog.”

“Hot dogs? You want dogs and popcorn and soda, after having indigestion last night?”

“I like to live my life a little on the wild side. Might even have some chips and salsa.”

“I’ll bring the peppermint tea in a flask!” 

Gil chuckled down the phone. “That’s probably a very good idea. You pick me up tonight? You know where I live?”

“Yeah. Ten, ten-fifteen?”

“On the money. See you then. Bye.” And he was gone.

Nick sat back in his chair holding his cell and staring across his yard. He had now crossed over into that alternate universe; he had no doubt about that. 

Gil was feeling inordinately pleased with himself. Quite unintentionally they’d spoken about Walter Gordon and how Nick had coped; Gil had said things he’d wish he’d said at the time but couldn’t find the words, or more accurately, the balls to do it. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and that he would feel a lot happier about seeing Nick.

His life had definitely taken a turn for the better. 

He spent two hours finishing his article and was pleased with it, although he needed to check it through a few times, he’d achieved what he’d set out to do and what he’d told the publishers he’d deliver. He’d also received a lucrative job offer.

At nine o’clock, after a celebratory beer, he took a shower, then dressed and waited for Nick, who as punctual as himself, arrived at a few minutes after ten. Gil let him in.

“Good evening! It’s bit early to go yet, it’s only fifteen minutes from here; do you want a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“I finished the article this evening, and I've had an offer to teach a seminar at Berkeley, just for four weeks, but it’s a prestigious university and I think I would be foolish to turn it down, it might lead to other work. What do you think?”

“That’s great. When do you go?” Nick said the words but was incredulous that Grissom had asked for his opinion; maybe he was just being polite…except Grissom didn’t do polite like other people

“They haven’t sent me the details yet, but it’s quite soon I believe, in weeks rather than months.”

“Do you want to teach?”

“Ah, the big question. Do you know at one time I would have said definitely, I do, but now, I don’t know. I don’t think I want to be restricted again like I have been at the lab, I think freelance work would be a better option, a bit of this, bit of that, pick and choose. The only problem, of course, is being offered the work in the first place. When word gets around I’m sure there’ll be even more offers coming in.”

“So you’ve only had the one article to write and the one job…but hey, it is Berkeley.”

“True. No, I've had five articles to write since I left and invitations to address a couple of forensic conventions that I have accepted, but they’re not for some months…since I have accepted them I hope Berkeley is sooner rather than later. I’m trying to see if I can manage on the money I’ve made so far. Berkeley would be a big help in that direction. But I've allowed for a period of lean pickings.”

“It seems you’ve thought it all out…but you would anyway.” 

“I would, would I?” 

“Yeah, Mr Organised.”

“Nick, cast your mind back to the backlog of files on my old desk. The late evaluations. The missed meetings. I think you’re remembering with twenty/twenty hindsight wearing rose tinted spectacles.”

“Yeah, I remember, but you always got the important stuff done. Did you know I’ve got your office?”

“No, I didn’t. I thought Catherine would have had it.”

“She didn’t want it. But she offered it to me, so I said okay, but I asked to share it with Greggo and Riley, it was too big a responsibility to be there on my own. Did you know Riley left and I got promoted?”

“Promoted? No, I didn’t know, and you forgot to tell me?”

“Yeah, I did, completely slipped my mind. Sorry.” Nick laughed, but Gil remained serious.

“So, to what have you been promoted?”

“Oh, Assistant Supervisor. I’m Catherine to her Grissom!”

“That’s good, Nicky, real good. Congratulations.” Gil stuck his hand out to Nick to shake it, and Nick took it, somewhat awkwardly.

“Only by default.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well with Sara gone and Warrick…there was no one else.”

“That’s ridiculous. Neither Sara nor Warrick would have made good supervisors for a lot of reasons. I’m sure you must know.”

“Right.” Nick was clearly uncomfortable and Gil realised immediately, which he thought was fairly remarkable, given his propensity for missing the obvious when it came to emotional matters. 

“I’m sorry, it was wrong of me to speak about my old staff, and your friends, like that; but Nick, you would be everyone’s choice, I’m surprised it’s taken as long as it has. Remember years ago you were all set to be a lead CSI and the money was pulled?”

“Yeah.” 

Nick wanted this conversation to be over, he was embarrassed at the praise from Grissom; he was so unused to receiving it, even after Grissom had said he was, ‘his best student’. Nick looked around to see if he could find something so he could change direction. His eyes alighted on a picture in a frame tucked away among books in a book case.

It was Grissom with Sara. He had his arm around her shoulders and they were smiling at the camera. But there was something not quite right, it didn’t look right.

“I was surprised you didn’t get back together with Sara.”

“Really? She left me. Twice.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“I didn’t mean that in any way, it’s up to you…and Sara, what you do, but I think most of the lab expected you to get together with her.”

“Did they? Well it didn’t happen and it isn’t going to happen. We’d better get going.”

“Yeah.” Nick sensed he’d seriously dampened Grissom’s mood. “We need to be there in plenty of time to get you stocked up with food.”

Gil laughed. “You’re right.” 

Nick was redeemed.

At the complex, Gil did indeed have a dog with everything. Nick declined, but had popcorn and coke. They enjoyed the film and chatted about it as Nick drove back to Gil's house.

Since it was the early hours of the morning, Nick just dropped Gil off and advised him to drink peppermint tea before bed and they said their goodbyes. Nick realised as he drove home that there had been no further arrangements made to meet up, so maybe that was that.

The next evening, Nick cell rang as he was on his way to the gym. It was Gris. 

“Hi.”

“Nick, I’m going to take that work at Berkeley; they’ve offered me a great deal and if it works out for both sides, there’ll be work for a couple of months a year. Now that I would like! So we really need to go out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“Yeah, that’s great news, just what you were looking for. We should celebrate.”

“You’re not going to be off again until next week, are you?”

“Next weekend is my weekend off.”

“Saturday? I know a great place. You do like fish don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“Can’t be too careful with you Texans, I was with a guy in college, from Houston, and he ate nothing but steaks, all the time.”

“Stereotyping, Gil? Not your style.” Nick had called him Gil and the moment the word left his mouth he felt…odd, strange, he had no idea why, but he did.

“I’m allowed one lapse…surely?”

“Okay, just the one. So where is this restaurant?”

“Michael Mina’s…”

“…at the Bellagio?”

“Yes, have you been?”

“No, but isn’t it supposed to be the best in Vegas?”

“I believe so, I've been twice and I have not been disappointed.”

“Okay then, it’s a date.”

“Yes, good. I’ll book right now; I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, see ya.”

Not five minutes later he was back on Nick’s cell.

“We’re really lucky; they’d just had a cancellation, the call before me, so nine, next Saturday?”

“That’s good.”

“What’re you doing now?”

“Just arriving at the gym, gonna work out and shower and go straight to work.”

“Okay, have a good night.” 

“Yeah, okay. Bye.” Nick would have stared at his cell again if he hadn’t been driving. It was odd. There was something odd going on and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

He had a busy week but on Thursday evening, before he went into work, Nick decided to call Gil. He’d actually been thinking about calling Gil since Tuesday, but it was Thursday before he managed to summon up the courage to make the call. 

“Hey, how you doing?”

“Nick, good to hear from you, I’ve been very busy, preparing notes and tutorials for Berkeley. I want to go in prepared and not do it on the hoof.”

“Always a good idea.”

“That’s what I thought. How’s work?”

“Busy like you wouldn’t believe, I’ve pulled two doubles already this week, but we caught some breaks and it made it worthwhile.”

“Why don’t you stop by for a quick drink…and by that I mean a coffee, before you go in tonight, I can show you my notes and you can give me some feedback?”

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I can do that. See you in about an hour, that okay?”

“Great. See you then.” And Gil was gone; he had a habit of ending the calls abruptly. But he sounded happy about Berkeley.

When he’d had a few minutes here and there, Nick had given some thought to how this…friendship…with Grissom was going and came to the conclusion that that’s exactly what it was, a friendship. Gil Grissom wanted a friend and had latched onto Nick.

Nick was really okay with that. Warrick had been his friend, although they’d drifted apart in the last year of Warrick’s life. Warrick was dealing with some shit and chose not to involve Nick. Nick was okay about it, it was Warrick’s choice, but he was disappointed that he couldn’t confide in him. But, people change and they move on. Nick figured that maybe Gil just needed a friend now that Sara and Warrick were gone.

That was another thing. Half the time Nick thought of Grissom as Grissom and the other half he thought of Gil as Gil. He also called him Gris, but since two halves made a whole he didn’t know how to categorise that nickname. He actually called Gil Grissom all three names to his face and Grissom…Gil…Gris, hadn’t commented on any of them

While he was driving over to Gil's, he made a decision to call Gil, Gil, all the time.

He knocked on the door and Gil answered quickly.

“Come on in, Nick. Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, thanks, Gris, I’m fine.” Damn.

They spent over an hour reviewing Gil’s notes for his seminar, and Nick was able to make some contributions, Gil seemed very pleased with him.

“I have to go. Gil. I’m going to call you, Gil, if that’s okay?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Because I keep calling you Grissom, Gris or Gil, and it gets confusing, so I’m gonna try and stick with Gil.” 

“I’m okay with that, I've been called a lot of things in my time.”

“I bet.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry…I mean Grissom…Gris…you know.”

“You’re blushing, Nick, don’t dig the hole any deeper.” Gil laughed

“No. Work. I’m going to work. See you Saturday?”

“I’ll pick you up, about eight…we need to get in early and traffic’s always bad on Saturdays.”

“About eight. See you then…Gil.”

“Thanks for your help. I’ll get you to check my notes more thoroughly before I go, if that’s okay?”

“No problem. See ya!”

Gil felt really happy as he sorted through his papers, and of course he knew why.

Nick felt really happy as he drove to work, but didn’t give it much thought; he was just happy.

Gil arrived, as usual, a few minutes early to pick Nick up. Both men wore smart pants, with a button down shirt and a jacket.

“I didn’t think you’d put a tie on, I don’t think we’ll need them will we?”

“No, we won’t. It’s smart but not that smart. You ready to go? I’m hungry; I've been good today in anticipation.” 

“I’ve been asleep…man, I was drained, we had a busy week. I didn’t finish yesterday until midday. But no work until Monday night, so it’s good.”

Nick locked up and they clambered aboard Gil’s truck. It was a slow drive, but with no major hold-ups; Gil parked at the Bellagio. They made their way to the restaurant and found that their table was available immediately so they were comfortably seated at twenty to nine.

With their fill of lobster, prawns and tuna, a smooth Californian white wine and a wonderful sweet and bitter coffee, the check was delivered to their table just a few minutes before closing. 

“I’ll get this.” Gil picked it up.

“No way. This’ll be hundreds of bucks…”

“…I invited you to celebrate getting the work at Berkeley. I wouldn’t have suggested it, if I thought I couldn’t get the check. No contest. Give in.”

“Gris…”

“...Gil.”

“Gil, look man it’s too generous. Please let me at least pay half?”

“No. I’ll be offended.”

“Well I tell you that I’m going to pick up the tab every time we go out for the next month…no argument!” Nick didn’t realise what he’d just said to Gil.

“Okay, okay.” Gil had.

Gil paid the check. He paid for the valet parking. Nick was annoyed but he couldn’t argue. They’d had a great meal and talked about lots of things that interested them both. It had been a very good evening.

When they arrived back at Nick’s, Nick invited Gil in for another coffee.

Gil readily accepted.

In the kitchen Nick started up his coffee machine; Gil leaned on the counter and was remembering his Hawaiian prawns, while Nick reminisced about his lobster. 

“You now for a Texan meat eater I must say that the Lobster was spectacular…but do you think I should have had a turf and surf? Was I being disrespectful to my roots to go with the Maine lobster?”

“I think you did the right thing and I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s a deal.”

They both laughed. Suddenly, Gil stood up straight and moved away from the counter where he’d been leaning and moved closer to Nick.

“Nick? Could I kiss you?”

Nick had been smiling and it stuck on his face as he looked at Gil. When he spoke his voice sounded considerably higher than normal.

“KISS…me? Kiss…ME? You want to KISS me? ”

“Yes. You seem surprised. We’ve been dating for a couple of weeks. I think it’s a reasonable request.”

“We’re dating?” Nick’s voice squeaked an impossibly high response; his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets!

“Yes.”

“You’re serious?” Nick’s voice was still unnaturally high and his eyes were still startlingly wide.

“What d’you think we’ve been doing?” Gil was nonplussed by Nick’s surprise.

Nick had no response to that. He just looked at Gil.

“You said yourself that we were going out on a date when I booked Michael Mina’s, isn’t it a reasonable assumption that after a date, a kiss would be nice?”

“Nice? But I’m not…I mean I’m…what I’m saying here is…”

“…not a lot.”

“No. I’m not. I've never kissed…a man…a guy. I've never kissed a man.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“You could start now.”

“But, I’m…straight.”

“You’re straight?”

“Well…yes.”

“Completely straight? But you seemed so happy to be…dating.”

“I was…I am. But I thought we were friends…I didn’t think we were dating…dating!”

“I see. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Okay.”

“I suppose I’d better go.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I think I’d better, don’t you? I read this…this situation all wrong. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to go. Have a coffee.”

“No, I’ll get going.” 

Gil backed out of the kitchen and made his way to Nick’s front door. Nick followed him but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Gil turned to Nick. “I am sorry.”

Nick didn’t want him to leave. “It’s okay. Honestly.”

Gil nodded and left. Nick watched him go and as normal Gil didn’t look back. Nick stood at his door for a few minutes while he watched Gil’s truck disappear into the night.

He felt as if he was in shock. Gil’s request had come out of left field. He’d had no idea whatsoever, that Gil had been dating him. No idea. What he stupid? If two men did go out together, like he’d been out with Gil, did it mean that there was more on the table than friendship? Gil had obviously thought so, but it had never crossed his mind. Not once. He was absolutely sure, too, that Gil being gay had never crossed his mind. Never. But…

Gil drove home steadily and methodically. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d been stupid. Nick had never really indicated that it was anything more than a friendship; he had said it was a date when Gil had booked the restaurant for tonight. He had no reason to believe that Nick was anything other than heterosexual, but there was something, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it had felt so right in the kitchen and he would have loved to kiss Nick. Loved to.

But it wasn’t going to happen now. Not after the shock on his face. In his voice.

When Gil had parked his truck and gone indoors he stood in his living room for a few minutes trying to decide what he should do next. Nothing. There really was nothing he could do. Maybe write a note and apologise, but whatever Nick had said, he wouldn’t want to continue being friends, as close they had been, if Nick thought Gil's idea was that he was friend – a friend with benefits.

Gil decided that now would be good time to have an herbal tea. A camomile tea would calm him down. He didn’t really need calming down, he needed cheering up. This was a plan that had failed, spectacularly. Why had he thought that Nick wouldn’t be averse to a little action? He had no idea. Maybe he thought that Nick was bisexual like himself. It had never actually crossed his mind that Nick was completely straight. Not once. What did that say about him? Or Nick? 

Gil sat down on his couch, having thrown his jacket over a chair and toed his shoes off. He held his hot drink between his hands and stared at the blank television screen.

Gil nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a loud knock at his front door. He rarely had visitors and he never had visitors at nearly midnight His tea splattered a little, on his shirt, and he absentmindedly rubbed at it as he made his way to the door and peered through the security peep hole.

He stood back, took a deep breath, and then opened the door.

“Gris.”

“Gil.”

“Gil.”

“Why are you here?”

“I think we need to talk about this. I think I need to talk about it anyway.” He’d amended his bold statement when Gil’s eyebrows rose, quite alarmingly, on the ‘we’.

“You’ve followed me home to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think I could come in?”

Gil had been so surprised by Nick’s arrival he’d completely forgotten to extend the courtesy, so he stood back and allowed Nick to walk into his home. He was very surprised to find Nick on his doorstep, but he was not about to share that little titbit. 

Nick stood still in the middle of Gil’s living room. Gil stood a few feet away from him and waited; when it appeared Nick had no intention of saying anything soon, he started the ball rolling.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Just because I've never been kissed by a man, doesn’t mean I couldn’t be kissed by a man. Right?”

“Right.”

“If that had happened years back I would have decked you.”

“But you didn’t. Does that mean something?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. What do you think?”

“I don’t know…so you followed me home.”

“I suppose I thought that maybe we, I, should talk about it.”

“So talk.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“What did you want to say when you decided to follow me home?”

“Is this camomile tea?” Nick saw the mug on Gil’s coffee table, and could smell the familiar herb.

“You wanted to talk about herbal tea?”

“No, of course not, it’s just…”

“…do you want one?”

“Yes. Please. It calms me down. I think I need to calm down.”

“Okay.” Gil was smirking at Nick and Nick tried a tentative smile back. He trailed after Gil as he made his way into the kitchen.

“I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Why not?”

“I thought I’d blown my chance.” 

“Are you saying that to continue being friends we have to…to be more?”

“Possibly.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do. I’d be very happy indeed if we continued to be friends, as we have been, but now you know I have, I had ulterior motives towards you, would you ever be comfortable with me again?”

“Yes, I’m sure I would. I’m comfortable now. It’s not like you’re going to jump me. Are you?”

“Probably not; but I find you very attractive.”

“You do?” There was that very unattractive high voice again.

Gil smiled at Nick. “Yes, I do. It’s one of the reasons I decided to pursue you.”

“You decided…you knew from the start…sorry, just having a bit of moment here. So: you decided to pursue me, romantically. Did you know…suspect…suspect, that I was gay? Is that what it was? If it was only one of the reasons then what were the others?”

“Can we go and sit on the couch? It would be more comfortable and you could sip your tea and become calmer.” Nick knew Gil was laughing at him, but he was okay with it and smiled his acknowledgement.

They settled down on Gil's leather couch…each man perched at either end. And each man held their tea in front of them. Gil turned and smiled at Nick.

“This is a cosy little domestic scene.”

“A man has never told me that he finds me attractive; so what else made you pursue me?”

“You. The way you are. Friendly, knowledgeable, and I know it’s ridiculously clichéd to death, but you are a nice man. I haven’t enjoyed being in anyone’s company, for many years, as much as I enjoy being with you. I think we kind of compliment each other.”

“Wow. But did you think I was gay?”

“Now you see, this is where my argument starts to go awry.”

“It does? How?”

“Because it never crossed my mind that you weren’t gay…any more than it crossed my mind that you were gay. Perhaps you need to understand me more to understand what I mean.” Gil paused

“Go on. I’m listening.”

“That’s another thing you do well. 

“I’ve always liked the person first and foremost, at least most of the time. The gender of the person has been irrelevant. I’m not ashamed to say that beauty does play a part. I like to look at a beautiful woman or a beautiful man, as much as anyone else. But I like more. I like the person, what they have to say, how they talk, what they talk about, how we interact. It’s the whole package that I find most enticing. And, to me, it makes no difference whether that person is a male or a female.

“Since college. Remember, I am a product of the late swinging sixties and early seventies, morals were becoming looser, we were freer than ever before. It was still illegal but it was not forbidden and a lot of young men and women tried it on for size, because they could, and a lot of them, because it was like a badge of honour. Made you liberal and cool. I think it’s fair to say that it was more likely to be my type of student, rather than the college jocks, that did engage in their new found freedom. 

“I think I’m making it sound as if it was rampant and I don’t think it was, per se, it was just that we could talk about it, we could smoke a joint and kiss a guy and there would be no fear of retribution.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t smoke joints.”

“I’m afraid I did. Not many, because I wasn't a smoker anyway and found it physically distasteful, but I wasn’t a fan of being out of control, either.”

Nick laughed. “I can believe that.”

“I don’t want to give you the impression that I was promiscuous either, because I wasn’t, and even less so after college. But the strange thing is, and I was thinking about it when you knocked my door tonight, is that in all the years since, you are the only man who’s turned me down, point blank.”

“I am? So is your, what, gaydar failing?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I understand what you’ve said. I’ve never thought about kissing a man, I don’t think I have, anyway. Certainly not consciously. But, and I think this is why I did follow you back here, the thought, though it surprised the hell out of me, wasn't totally…unwelcome, if that’s the right word. It wasn’t something that I thought, what the fuck…I’ll kill him. It was the surprise of it, more than anything. I have spent a lot of time wondering why you phoned me up, out of the blue, and then kept coming back. 

“I thought I was of no interest to you. I never had the acknowledgement from you, at work, that the others had and I was okay with that. Well, I was used to it. When you said to me that I’d been your best student, that meant a lot to me, I can tell you. So when you suddenly started to be friendly I was totally blindsided. Now this.”

“It’s only been since we become friendly that I realise just how much I misjudged you over the years. The night of the pifflings, is a good example. I never considered that you could be as authoritative about birds as I am about…bugs. It never crossed my mind, at all, until I saw your drawings. And you’re an artist; I never knew. I should have guessed; your crime scene sketches were always the very best. I never said did I?”

“No.”

“I’m not perfect, Nick; never was. In fact I’m flawed, very flawed. My behaviour, not only towards other people, but to myself, depresses me sometimes when I look back at things I’ve done and decisions I've made, and even with the added value of hindsight, I find it hard to justify a great many of them.”

“Was Sara a mistake?”

Gil nodded. He couldn’t speak.

“I guessed. I saw that photo of you both, over there, I looked at it and there was something wrong with it but I couldn’t see what it was, but it did come to me a couple of days later. But you’ve never spoken about it, so I thought I wouldn’t intrude.”

Gil got up from the couch and retrieved the photo from the book case.

“What did you see?” 

“You’re both smiling, but if you actually study your faces for a few moments, Sara does look happy and her smile lights up her whole face, your smile doesn’t. It’s almost…superficial. It could have been you were annoyed at that moment of course, but…”

“No. It wasn’t in that moment. Do you know Sara never noticed it; she loved this picture and framed it for me. How could she have not seen it, with all her observational skills, and yet you noticed immediately?” 

“Because she didn’t want to see it, acknowledge it; I’m an outsider looking in. It can’t have been all bad.”

“No.”

Nick could see that Gil wasn’t going to say any more about Sara, but it seemed pretty clear that while it might not have been all bad, it didn’t appear to have that good either.

They sat in silence for a few minutes and Nick finished his tea. He did feel calmer. Maybe it was the tea, or maybe just speaking to Gil had made him calmer. But he knew what he wanted to say now. He knew why he’d come over to confront Gil. 

“I know why I came over here now.”

Gil looked at him and smiled, the sad expression he’d had while studying the photo of him and Sara had completely gone and he, too, looked calm. “Go on.”

“I thought about you going to Berkeley in a couple of weeks. I thought about not seeing you, not speaking to you and losing our friendship. I don’t want that to happen.” Gil went to speak, but Nick stopped him. “Let me finish, please. I don’t want to lose you as a friend but it’s more than that. I thought of you making friends with other men and asking them if you could kiss them…and they said, ‘yes’. 

“That’s why I came over. Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t want to throw away what we might be able to have, not without giving it a…go.”

“That sounds promising, Nick. It sounds suspiciously like a bout of green eyed jealousy.”

“Maybe it does. I don’t know if I can do it…this, between us, but I’m damn well not giving you up without a fight.”

“I like that idea. Nick, if it doesn’t work out, you know I still want to be your friend. I think that could work, now that we’ve talked.”

Nick nodded and thought for a few moments. “That’d be good. But then why do I get this odd feeling that if we’re only friends there could still be a man, or a woman, that could come between us? I don’t want that to happen.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t got an answer for that…except…that maybe you do want this.” Gil used his hand to indicate the two of them.

Nick nodded. 

“Nick? Could I kiss you, now?” 

Nick nodded again.

Gil slid along the couch until he was sitting beside Nick. “I’ll just hold you hand for a few minutes. Let you get used to the feel.” He chuckled.

“Okay.”

Gil picked up Nick’s hand closest to him and actually inspected it. “You have strong, capable hands. Your cuticles could do with tidying up.”

Nick pulled his hand away and inspected his cuticles. “You think?”

“No. Yes. Probably. I’m not an expert, but I've had manicures.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Well. Yes. I wish you wouldn’t have those ridiculous buzz cuts.”

“I see. And…”

“This is not an auspicious start is it?”

“No.” But Nick laughed. “You could kiss me now. My expectations have just plummeted.”

“Oh God, Nick, I’m sorr…”

It was Nick who made the move. He kissed Gil. A soft meeting of lips, warm and chaste.

What surprised Nick was that as soon as their lips met, he wanted more. He opened his mouth against Gil's mouth and Gil followed suit. Gil's tongue gently licked Nick’s bottom lip and Nick moaned at the sensation and pushed harder into Gil, the kiss suddenly becoming all consuming, as Gil's tongue moved past Nick’s lips to enter his mouth. 

Nick’s mouth was hot and wet and much more importantly to Gil, compliant. 

For a few precious moments they continued kissing, their tongues gently lapping at each others, the taste of camomile almost overwhelming, but also familiar, and then Gil pulled away from Nick. He looked into Nick’s face as they both panted for air to replenish their interrupted supply. Nick’s eyes were very nearly black and the skin around them crinkled from a happy smile plastered on his face. Gil chuckled and readjusted himself on the couch so that he was sitting with one leg underneath him and was able to slip an arm around Nick’s shoulders, drawing him close and kissing him again.

Thoroughly.

A few minutes later they had to take another break to breathe. Nick’s smile was face splitting now.

“Man, it’s been years since I made out on a couch.” He whispered to Gil. “But I don’t remember it being like this. So. Good.”

“I want you, Nick.” Gil whispered back, knowing full well that those few words would wipe the smile from Nick’s face. They did.

“I think I know that.”

“But I’m not doing anything more tonight, as much as I want you. I think we need to do this by increments.”

“What? You’re joking?”

“Nick…in case you’ve forgotten, this is your first time. I don’t want to scare you away?”

“Gil? I’m not a blushing virgin…or a kid…”

“…but you’ve never done this before and I…” 

“…no buts, I know what’s next…it’s not like it’s gonna be a surprise to me, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

“Can I stay the night?”

“You want to stay…sleep with me, stay?”

“Yeah.”

“Nick are you rushing headlong into something…”

“…have you forgotten we’ve been dating? Have you forgotten that I’ve known you for years? Okay, this sex with a man has come as a bit of a shock. But still, I feel comfortable; comfortable with you, and the idea.”

“Somehow, in the last half an hour you’ve turned the tables on me. I don’t know how that happened.” 

Nick laughed. “No, nor me. Feels good to have the upper hand with Gil Grissom…all I've got to do now is persuade you to take me to bed.”

“I think I've been persuaded, but don’t tell anyone what a pushover I am.”

“I think that’s me…but then I wouldn’t be a pushover if I didn’t want to be. I’m excited by it, a totally new experience at thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight? You’re that old? I must be slipping up if my new boyfriend is almost middle aged.”

“New boyfriend? Middle aged?”

“You did say you’re not a blushing virgin.” Gil chuckled but then became serious. “But this excitement you’re talking about it’s not sexual excitement is it?” 

“Not at this moment; but it was when you kissed me, I wanted you to touch me.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Call me suspicious here, Gil, but you were the one who wanted me and now you seem almost…reluctant.”

“I’m not reluctant. Honestly? I want you more than ever, but I’m worried that you’ll change your mind when you experience the actualities of two men. No breasts, no…”

“…two erections?”

Gil nodded.

“Well, unless we try I’m not going to know, am I? But, honestly, it’s not like I don’t know what’s involved.”

“Penetration?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Oh. I just thought you may have…overlooked that.”

“No. I don’t know…whether I will be able to…but how I feel at this moment, Gil, is that…it’s an option.”

Gil nodded again and before he could speak, Nick leaned forward again and kissed him.

They kissed and murmured and their hands stroked each other. Gil palmed one of Nick’s nipples and felt the small hard nub. Nick bucked his hips immediately in response to the pressure.

Their gasping breaths made them break apart and Nick stroked Gil’s hair. And chuckled. 

Gil pulled back, smiling, and Nick knew he wanted to know why Nick’d chuckled at his hair.

“It’s soft, man, just a surprise, is all.”

Gil ran his hand over Nick’s head and immediately frowned.

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“It’s prickly.”

“That’s the gel, to keep it in place.”

“You haven’t got enough hair to need to keep it in place.”

“You know you can go off people. My cuticles, my buzz cut. This isn’t a buzz cut but you still like to criticise?”

Gil smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m not the best when it comes to personal compliments...the whole interpersonal thing.”

“You’re telling me. I thought you said you thought I was good looking?”

“You’re very good looking; handsome. You have beautiful eyes, they’re black with desire at the moment; a wonderful smile that makes your entire face light up…that better?”

“Much.”

Nick leaned forward to kiss Gil again and Gil smiled as their lips met, but it was a quick kiss as Gil pulled back suddenly.

“Ow. Ow. My leg’s gone to sleep.” He’d been sitting sideways on his leg for some time and now stood up, rubbing at his thigh.

Nick started laughing. “Man, this is like a skit on Saturday Night Live. Do you think we’ll ever get to bed?”

“Yes, I do. Come here.” Gil pulled at Nick and Nick stood and faced Gil, who was still stomping his foot on the floor to get the blood flowing properly once more.

But then he stopped and put his hands on Nick’s shoulders and moved in and kissed him.

In a second their arms were wrapped around each other and their bodies pressed close; but Nick gasped and pulled away from Gil and looked him in the eyes as he ground his hips into Gil. Both men felt the other’s hard-on, through the fabric of their pants. 

Gil was dumbstruck at Nick. Nick’s mouth was slightly open and Gil could see the tip of his tongue just running over the edge of his teeth; Nick’s eyes were black and they were flicking from Gil's own eyes and then down to Gil's mouth and then up again. Nick then caught his lower lip in his teeth and worried it a little, Gil could see his Adam’s apple moving up and down and was thinking just how hot Nick was when Nick kissed him again.

And staged an all out onslaught on Gil. His mouth devouring Gil's mouth and lips and tongue, His hands slipping down to Gil's ass and his fingers digging into the flesh through his trousers and boxers, and pulled Gil close to him as he ground his hips against Gil’s body. 

They were the same height and that meant that their hard-ons were almost aligned, pushing against one another within the confines of their clothes... 

Nick was gasping and moaning…Gil couldn’t make out any actual words. But this was good. No, good was inadequate, this was incredible.

They were both gasping for more air and Nick pulled away to breathe but he also took the opportunity to nuzzle Gil's neck. Blowing out hot air onto Gil's already overheated skin. Gil could feel his body flushing with desire.

He pushed Nick away and it took quite a strong effort from him, to prise Nick from his position against him.

“Nick. Nick. Bed, now?” Gil whispered, he couldn’t have spoken aloud if he’d tried.

Nick nodded and then kissed Gil, an open mouthed wet kiss but without the urgency of moments before.

Gil pulled away from Nick again and smiled, using one hand to smooth over Nick’s cheek. As his thumb passed Nick mouth, Nick moved and caught it between his lips and sucked it. Gil could feel Nick’s tongue running around the tip of his thumb. He groaned.

“This way.” He gently pushed Nick around and slipped his hand around Nick’s waist as he propelled him in the direction of his bedroom.

As they stood at the foot of Gil's bed they started removing each other’s clothing. One shirt and then another. Tee shirts. Belts. Pants. 

And then they lay on the bed, Gil kicked the comforter to the foot of the bed and then switched on a bedside lamp, to provide some dim light.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Never better.”

They didn’t speak again for some time.

Gil smiled at Nick. And thought for a man about to have his first sexual encounter with another man, he looked relaxed and even debauched; as if this was an every day occurrence.

As he lay there looking, Nick reached for him and their lovemaking began.

Kissing again. As they had in the living room. But this time as they kissed Gil stroked Nick’s naked back, and felt the strong muscles under his fingertips. He let his hands find their way to Nick’s ass and Gil smiled into his kiss with Nick. The small, muscular, compact ass cheeks, the antithesis to his own substantial buttocks.

Nick pulled back from the kiss to smile at Gil and then slipped his own boxer briefs off. He put his fingers in the waistband of Gil’s boxer shorts and tugged, but they didn’t budge with the weight of Gil holding them up, but Gil bucked his hips up and Nick managed to slip the boxers down to Gil's thighs and then Gil took over and took them off and threw them over Nick’s head onto the floor by the bedside.

These actions meant that for the first time each man could see the other’s erection. Gil reached down and took hold of Nick’s firm cock, gently tugging at it a few times. He looked at the engorged cock and admired it, as he’d expected, it looked as good as its owner. Nick gasped and groaned and then captured Gil’s cock with his hand and mirrored Gil’s action.

Gil pushed Nick onto his back from lying on his side and Gil followed him and attached his mouth to one of Nick’s nipples and chewed at it, sucked and licked it and then did the same to the other nipple. All the time Nick was still gasping and groaning and wriggling under Gil.

He started to kiss down Nick’s body and arrived at his belly button. It was an inny and Gil slid the tip of his tongue into it and tickled the skin around the edge. Nick chuckled and looked down at Gil, giving him a smile that made Gil's heavy cock twitch. 

Gil’s lips drifted past Nick’s belly button, and he looked up at Nick and raised his eyebrows in a question. Nick replied with a smile and put a hand in the soft curls of Gil's head and gently pushed Gil down onto his cock.

Nick’s compact ass came away from the bed as Gil’s mouth slipped over his cock. The heat and wetness made Nick’s cock harder still. He sucked and licked as Nick writhed beneath him, succeeding, if that was his aim, in pushing further into Gil's mouth. 

This was by no means Nick’s first blow job, but Gil’s insider knowledge made it, without a shadow of a doubt, the very best he’d ever received. It was all about the actions of Gil's mouth and tongue and the sucking, because Gil knew what to do, because he was a man too…and somehow, to Nick, it just didn’t matter about that.

Gil moved away from Nick’s cock to fondle and then suck his balls, but kept a hand on his cock. Gil’s own cock was losing out and he was desperate for some pressure on it, but he didn’t expect Nick to do anything, not the first time, besides which, Nick was more or less pinned down by Gil and he couldn’t reach. 

He sat up and back on his haunches and admired the view of Nick Stokes, whom he’d only actually hoped to kiss a couple of hours ago, now lying naked on his bed, with his hard-on bobbing slightly as it lay along his stomach..

Nick reached out and took Gil’s cock in his hand and Gil leaned forward slightly to let him. He tugged and pumped and twisted it gently a few times causing Gil to take deep breaths and close his eyes, as he savoured the feeling. They didn’t stay closed for long; he looked down at Nick again and bent over him to capture his mouth once more.

They kissed and touched and stroked the skin of each other’s body before Gil once more dipped down to take Nick’s cock into his mouth. He was kneeling over one of Nick’s legs so that as he blew and sucked at Nick he could also grind his own cock against Nick’s leg. It wasn’t entirely a conscious movement, but when he realised he was doing it, he didn’t stop. It felt good. Very good.

Nick groaned and writhed and as Gil let his mouth glide up and down Nick’s increasingly hard cock, he could taste Nick. Not entirely bitter, not entirely sweet, but a good taste and Gil found that the taste and the smell of Nick’s body were as sexually arousing as he could remember any body being.

He pushed Nick further down his throat and Nick almost growled and tried to speak. Gil thought, fleetingly, that it was Nick warning that he was about to come down his throat. But if he was, that was the whole purpose of the exercise. 

No sooner had Gil thought the thought than Nick was bucking his hips up off the bed, holding Gil’s head between his hands and pumping his ejaculate down Gil's throat as Gil swallowed him down and sucked him dry.

Gil had hardly pumped any harder on Nick’s leg than he had been doing, but the taste and feel of Nick’s fluid caused Gil to come over Nick’s leg, just moments after Nick.

As he pulled off Nick’s flagging penis, Gil rested his forehead on Nick’s belly. He was breathing hard and Nick was stroking his hair, although it felt sodden with sweat.

After a minute or two, as their breathing calmed down and their bodies were cooling, Gil leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved his boxers and wiped Nick’s leg, before throwing them down back down again.

He then pulled up the comforter, turned out the light and lay beside Nick; he put his arm around Nick’s shoulders and drew him to him. Nick settled against him and wrapped an arm around Gil’s belly.

“Okay?”

“More than okay and thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“No, I mean, you kept it kinda simple; I know you probably wanted more, but that was good for me, like a beginner’s course. No, it wasn’t good…it was great.”

“It was so much more than I hoped for, Nick. So much more. And you were great yourself, you know.”

“It felt okay, good, you know, you being a guy. I've slept all day and I’m still tired now.”

“Then sleep here with me. I’d like that.”

“Me to.”

Gil kissed Nick’s hair and put his other arm over Nick’s arm as it lay across his belly. He felt content, more so than he had for a very long time. 

“Night, Nick.”

“Mmmm, night.” Nick could only murmur; he felt comfortable, more so than he had for a very long time.

The men slept through the night and in the very early morning Nick awoke still attached to Gil, though they were both on their sides, facing each other, as they’d started off the night and the sex.

It was very dark in the room, with just a chink of morning light escaping the curtains, but Nick could see Gil, as he slept, relaxed, breathing quietly and evenly.

“Are you staring at me?”

Nick jumped as the man he thought was asleep clearly wasn't.

“Might be.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Great, you?”

“Yeah, until someone started staring at me.”

“Sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“Very magnanimous of you. I’ve really made a mess of my sleep pattern, because I should sleep during the day, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open after we…after we made love.”

“You needed to sleep. You were snoring.”

“Really? Do I snore? I don’t know, I’m asleep!”

“Very funny. I was joking, you didn’t snore, well you might have but I was asleep too, and you didn’t wake me up.”

“I’ve gotta to get up, man, I’m dying for a piss.”

“Me too, can’t move yet though, too comfortable.”

“I gotta go, now I’ve mentioned it, it’s worse.” 

Nick pulled away from Gil, sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.

“Oh, man!” Nick wailed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I've still got my socks on. I mean how sexy is that?”

The bed started shaking as Gil laughed.

“Did you see? Did you deliberately let me keep them on?” 

“I might have done.”

“Oh, man.” Nick was actually blushing.

“I didn’t see them, but what if I had, I had far more important things on my mind than whether you liked to keep your socks on or not? Do you, I mean, like to keep them on?”

“No! I don’t.”

“I’d leave them on if I were you, the floor in the bathroom is tiled and can be a nasty shock to bed warmed feet.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Nick threw Gil a look that didn’t mirror his thanks. But nevertheless he kept his socks on and pointed at a door. “Bathroom?”

“It is.” And Gil watched in admiration as Nick’s ass made it’s way across the room.

He heard Nick taking a piss and knew that he would have to do the same. He waited until Nick flushed and then made his way to the bathroom.

“Are we gong back to bed, Gris?”

“Gris?”

“Gil. Gil, are we going back to bed?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m a cuddler, I think you’d better know now, rather than later.”

“I would’ve never have guessed. I could do with a drink, though.”

“You got juice in your fridge?”

“Yes.”

“Then you get back into bed and keep it warm and I’ll get juice for us.”

“A plan.”

Gil washed his hands and thought how easy this was. Relaxed and calm; Nick was behaving as if he’d slept with men all his adult life. Nick wasn’t bothered about nudity since he’d gone off to get them juice wearing just his socks. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and smiled. This was going to be good. Nick was going to be good. They were going to be good. He just knew it.

He made his way back to bed and tidied it up before getting under the comforter again. He pulled it up under his chin and not a minute later Nick arrived with two glasses of juice. He sat up and drank it in one go, he was thirsty, probably the salty semen, he thought. Nick got into bed and sat sipping his drink. He smiled across at Gil.

“Ain’t this a cosy little domestic scene?”

“Just like last night…yes, it is. Comfortable.”

“Are you…I mean, are we, are we gonna be together, do you think?”

“I would like to think that we are, yes. You?”

“Yes, definitely. I know I’m new at this…this man sex, but hell, it was great last night. It’s good. I don’t know whether it would work with any other man though. Although I haven’t dated any other men, so perhaps it was just waiting to happen.”

“I see. So you going to start playing the field now, are you?”

“Depends.”

“Depends? Depends on what?” 

“You going off to Berkeley.”

“Why? Don’t you want me to go?”

“Yes! Man, of course I do, it’ll be great for you. No, it’s if you, you know, meet someone else, while you’re there.” Nick snuggled down under the comforter and lay on his side, beside Gil. “Because if we are a couple, if you so much as lay your eyes on some young dude at Berkeley, you’ll be in big trouble.” 

“You’re jealous and possessive and issuing orders to me?”

“Nothing wrong with that, man, I want you to know where you stand. I've always been a one horse kinda guy, and okay, they’ve been women, but this is no different.” 

“I suppose not.” Gil was trying, very hard, not to laugh.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I only wanted to kiss you and look at us now, like an old married couple. In what, eight hours?”

“You only wanted to kiss? You mean I put out for nothing?”

“I’d have been quite happy with a kiss, yes. But I’m...I don’t know, ecstatic…at having you in my bed.”

“Ecstatic? That’s good then.”

“Very.”

“Despite my socks?”

“Nothing’s perfect.” 

“You mean like my cuticles and my buzz cut.”

“I take it all back. I forgot about your ass. Now that is perfect. But, if I’m not mistaken, Nick, you’re still wearing your socks.”

“Damn. I thought you hadn’t noticed. Once a criminalist, always a criminalist…”

\---oooOOOooo---

“Breakfast, Nick?” Catherine smiled at Nick

“Yeah, that’d be good. I’ll ask the others.”

“No, don’t do that. There’s something I want to discuss…ask you.”

“Oh, okay.”

They settled into a booth at Frankie’s and each ordered a breakfast and juice. Both had decided against coffee, since they wanted to be able to sleep later.

“Work then?” Nick was all for getting it over and done with, whatever it was.

“No. No, it isn’t.” Catherine seemed hesitant and Nick was suddenly wary, he had a bad feeling; Catherine confirmed it by not elaborating. 

To Nick’s annoyance Catherine started talking about the case they’d been investigating for a couple of shifts. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted to say to him, she was stalling.

When their breakfasts arrived Nick tucked into his, he discovered he was hungry, but Catherine just played with hers and hardly ate a thing.

“If you’re not gonna eat that tomato, may I?” Nick never liked to see good food go to waste.

“Sure, help yourself.” So he did.

When they’d both pushed their plates aside, Catherine took hold of her juice and stared in it, as if for inspiration. 

“Nicky. I've been thinking.”

Nick waited for at least a minute while Catherine still inspected her juice.

“And?” If he sounded irritable he didn’t mean to, but she was playing whatever this was, for all it’s worth.

“I was just thinking, Nick, about the way everything has panned out; Sara, Warrick and Gil…there’s just you and me…originals…”

“…and Greggo.”

“But he wasn’t a CSI at the beginning, was he, not with our team?”

“True.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out, on a date…I mean I know it isn’t allowed, but hell, Gil and Sara got away with it for a couple of years. We’re both flying solo and I thought we could, you know, give it go, see how it pans out, wha’d’ya say? 

Catherine had suddenly found her stride and although she’d started off hesitantly she gained confidence as she spoke and grinned broadly at Nick as she finished.

Unfortunately for Nick, he deflated as she spoke, he hoped she hadn’t noticed, but he thought he may have a look of absolute horror across his face, as much as he was trying to get his features to remain neutral

She noticed. 

“Nick, are you okay? I’ve obviously shocked you, but what do you think? How about we hook up…and see what…happens?” The opposite happened this time; Catherine started boldly and petered out.

Nick had to speak; this was becoming excruciatingly painful, for both of them.

“Catherine, I’m very flattered, I really am, but you see, I’m…”

“Oh God, Nicky, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. So, who is she, do I know her?” 

For someone who’d wanted to date him not two minutes previously, Nick thought she was putting on a good show of being relieved he actually wouldn’t be dating her. But this was an opening, an opportunity, he couldn’t afford to miss.

“Actually, Catherine, it’s a he.”

Nick thought her face was comical, she’d retained the grin she’d affected for his rebuff, but her eyes betrayed her complete and utter shock. He chuckled, he’d remembered doing exactly this when Gil had asked him for a kiss.

“I never knew. Nick, I never guessed.”

“I didn’t know myself, until a few months back. Took me completely by surprise, but I was…pursued by this guy and, well, I let myself be caught. No one…was more surprised than me.”

“Well good for you; is it Bobby?” 

“Bobby? No, why…oh, because he’s gay? No, I think he’s been with his partner for years hasn’t he, and they’ve got a kid. No.”

“I was just being stupid. I’m happy for you, that you’ve discovered this side to you, I hope you’ll be very happy. You are happy aren’t you?”

“Happier than I've ever been. Yeah, happier than I’ve ever been…” Nick kind of petered out himself at this point, because he suddenly realised how true that was. He’d never been happier. He sat there a little dazed, staring into space.

Catherine had returned to her normal self. “It seems to me then that you’re madly in love. Good for you, Nicky. Good for you.”

“What? Sorry?”

She laughed. “I said, you’re madly in love. I think you are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I am. Catherine, here, will you get the check, please, I’ve gotta go.” He stood up and pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and put it on the table, and went to leave, only to turn back and plant a kiss on Catherine’s cheek. “Thanks Catherine, I owe ya!”

Catherine sat with her chin in her hand, and wondered where it had all gone wrong. But she was smiling.

Thirty-three minutes and a few traffic violations later, Nick was knocking the life out of Gil's front door.

Gil pulled the door open and Nick almost forced his way past him into the living room.

“Nick, what’s wrong? I wasn’t expecting you until this evening, is everything okay?”

Nick turned to face Gil and took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“You know? Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hold on, hold on; you wanted me, to tell you…that you loved me?”

It did sound preposterous. “Yeah. Yes, I did.” Although he could see the funny side and started chuckling. “So do you love me?” Nick felt ridiculously happy knowing exactly what the answer would be.

“Of course I do, I thought you knew.”

“If I didn’t know that I loved you, how was I supposed to know that you loved me?”

“You have a point, I suppose, but it’s all cleared up now. You love me and I love you. Have you had breakfast, can I get you a drink?”

“Have I had breakfast…but is this how it is with…men? You don’t say I love you, to one another?”

“I don’t know. No, it isn’t how it is. I do love you and I should tell you, I should have told you.”

“I love you, too. But I didn’t realise how much, until just now. Hey, can I sleep here today?”

“Of course you can, but only if you let me come to bed with you, at least for a little while. Maybe we should think about setting up home together.”

“Okay, you can come to bed with me, I’ll let you…and yeah, maybe we should think about setting up home together.” Nick stepped up to Gil and hugged him tight. “Man, I really love you.” 

Gil hugged him back. “Good feeling, eh?”

“The best. Come on.”

“I suppose you’re going to leave your socks on again?” Gil earned himself a slapped ass for his impertinence.

The End


End file.
